BBQ
by Britt601
Summary: Lady intends to have fun at a BBQ gathering hosted by Trish, except a particular white-haired individual sets it off to a bad start. Can he still turn it around and make it enjoyable for her? Alternate Universe (AU), Slight OOC. DMC 3...ish


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Devil May Cry or any of its characters, nor is any money being made off of this.

So... I thought of this after I read a couple of Zane books. Specifically, _Shame on it All_, and Lady ended up being the victim...or is it winner?

This will be an _**AU**_ and some will see it slightly _**OOC**_ because canon will not put these ideas together otherwise. I _think_ this is a short story/watered-down PWP...? Obviously this is my first attempt at something like this so bear with me.

Rated T for _**mild**_ language and sexuality, innuendos and Mary wishing she could kill Dante. :D

So...bye.

* * *

Summer.

The perfect time for hormones to go on a rampage and tempers to flare in the sweltering heat.

Mary sat in her bathtub in remembrance of the explosive events from Trish's BBQ gathering, sitting in near-scalding water to soothe her aching muscles. She never thought it possible to allow her emotions to drive her decisions and yet here she was, nursing her welts and bruises placed upon her by that scumbag idiot named Dante.

And it all started when he called her out her name.

**S-s-S-s-S**

"Ah! You dumb bitch! Can you not see me?"

The brunette bristled, eyes narrowing in confusion because she knew this creepy white-haired jerk wasn't speaking to her. She glanced over at Lucia, sitting beside her in the passenger seat, searching for reassurance that the oaf didn't mean her. Mary couldn't put her finger on it, but the the "B" word set her off.

She stuck her head out the window of her car back at him, "Screw you! You damn ass!"

He yelled out, "Lick my nuts!" and flipped her off, pressing hard on the gas then screeched off in his red 1969 COPO Camaro with the personalized license plate that read D KILLAH.

Mary cursed under her breath as the man pulled off from the light, idiot. "I hate it when people cut me off then act like it's my fault in traffic. Men make lousy drivers anyway!"

Lucia laughed, trying to soothe her friend's ruffled nerves. "Mary, don't sweat the small issues. Stuff happens, ya know?"

That didn't help much. "I get that, but still. He swerved out in the front of me when it was my turn to go, and had the nerve to call _me_ a bitch! I hope he crashes into a wall!"

"Now that you mention it, the cute ones are always jerks," she laughed in her French-accented voice. "He was a bit of a looker." Her red hair spun into a curly half-updo, secured by a red and white bow. Her deep, caramelized skin looked radiant in a red, long-sleeved midriff. White skinny jeans and red peep-toe heels with studded gems on the back showed off her figure. The look pulled together with red earrings and bracelets.

Ever since she moved out here with her mother, Matier, men took a heavy interest in her. While Mary procured some sort of happiness that her friend came out of her shy shell, it didn't calm the small green monster from snapping at her on the inside.

"Hmph. Don't you agree it's getting old to think with your crotch? You need to focus with your brain."

"Now, where is this coming from? We're supposed to have fun today so get rid of that bitchy attitude."

Mary didn't bother with a response. Instead she turned the radio up so loud that the bass vibrated the pedals. Lucia caught on to the hint not to push the subject any further. First the douche in the other car calls her a bitch then her own friend called her bitchy. What should be a fun day started off on the wrong foot.

Truth is, though she wouldn't admit it, they unknowingly verified her current attitude. She had tried her hand at dating but the results wound up less than satisfying. Many of her dates provided disinterest in a long-term commitment, and when they saw that she stayed "a prude" they left.

One man proved the victor to win over her heart with his vivacious charisma and persuasive charm. A few months passed and things progressed smoothly. He lived up to his gentlemanly repertoire; attentive, caring and passionate. These traits lulled her insecurities enough to give him her wholesome virtue in response to his loving ways.

Let's just say she learned a hard lesson not to trust guys with unbridled persuasiveness. She took a vow to make a man work for her love; no more Casanovas would sway their mojo on her.

Mary almost missed her exit from her wandering judgments. Pivoting her thoughts away from her "ex" she concentrated on her driving. It's a pointless endeavor to dwell about the past except to learn from it and advance towards the future. Speaking of forward, perhaps this outing that Trish threw would lift her spirits. Sitting under a shady tree with a frosty hard lemonade would calm her nerves from the problems in her life, temporarily.

They made the last turn before getting to her house, viewing a multitude of parked cars lining the streets. Lucia broke the silence and turned the radio all the way down. "Oh wow, look at all these people. Think I can find someone to bring home to mom?" she teased.

Mary rolled her eyes, not wanting to divulge that she halfway hoped to find a nice guy to talk to, at the very least. She turned the radio back up while one of her favorite songs, "Diet Mountain Dew" by Lana Del Rey, was on. Her classic and dark voice soothed ruffled nerves, like she spoke directly to your soul.

And on a random note, why do people turn down their radios when approaching their destination? Are they trying to creep up on the place and the radio would give away their arrival? Would it really matter since anyone can hear the sound of the engine? Perhaps it's a subconscious thing developed as a habit.

While looking for an available spot, listening to the tune and wondering why Lucia lowered the volume initially, she saw it.

"Dammit! I don't believe this!"

Lucia remained clueless to her outburst. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Mary could only point. Lucia looked in the direction of the pointed finger and saw the problem. A red 1969 COPO Camaro with a tag saying D KILLAH had parked in Trish's driveway. Mary wanted to scream.

She did not drive all the way across town to this cookout, expecting to have a semi-decent time, hanging with like-minded people, eating some couch-friendly food... and other shameless stuff to wander in the vicinity of this jerk. Why did this simpleton have to be at the _same_ gathering?

Lucia reached over and offered sympathy by patting her shoulder. "Oh, it's all right. Just ignore him. If you'd like, I'll keep him occupied so he won't bother you."

She sneered in disgust, lightly jerking her shoulder so Lucia's hand would loosen and started parallel parking in the only slot available. Her Audi coupe secured itself in the cramped space with just enough room to get out. She tried telling herself not to let anyone ruin her day. After all, how much of a waste is it to be here unless she put forth some effort?

The women did the female thing after the engine shut off: looked in the mirrors and primped. Mary used her sun visor whilst Lucia utilized the rear view mirror. Compared to her red-haired friend, Mary felt under-dressed. A form-fitting, one-shouldered white blouse and beige short shorts showcased her style. Strappy beige wedges complemented her pale, ivory gams.

At first she hesitated to wear shorts because of the marks on her legs but she figured it didn't matter. Many people donned stranger clothes when they had blemishes on their skin.

Lip gloss and mascara coupled with small, gold earring hoops decorated her face. The day before she had her eyebrows plucked to accentuate her heterochromatic eyes, ready to supply the evil eye should anyone give her any bullshit. On top of her dark, choppy locks rested aviator sunglasses, just in case the sun beamed too strong on her.

Other than her unique leg scars, she had another slash right on the bridge of her nose. Unlike her peers growing up she sported the feminine tomboy aura, never afraid to tussle with the boys to earn their _respect_ as their equal.

After checking for any lipstick on teeth, smudges and frizzy hair they got out the car and started walking the half-block to Trish's house. The aromas of BBQ ribs and chicken wafted in the breeze, watering their mouths and awakening their grumbling stomachs. Mary curbed her impatience to sink her teeth into something juicy. She skipped breakfast on purpose so she could be starving upon arrival.

The closer they ventured the louder the voices grew along with the booming music. They strolled through the front door, her heart suddenly racing because she saw that white-haired idiot sitting on the couch... in different clothes?

Her "agitator"sported his hair down and donned a red shirt (when he called her out of her name) while this one had his mane slicked back and he dressed... formally. On his torso he wore a gray, long-sleeved button down shirt and a sleek, dark blue twill vest with leather embellishments. Navy jeans rested on his lengthy legs and casual boots on his feet. But his most extreme feature, other than his naturally-looking white hair, exuded his nearly albino skin and eyes. Iceberg-tinted hues looked with cool indifference, almost white except his irises coupled the tiniest black pupils she ever saw.

Something about his presence projected this cold hostility. His aura alone stabbed you with a sword if he gazed in your direction. But the asshole who drove that car... expressed a hot-blooded and temperamental attitude in contrast to his stoic temperament. What had changed?

He sat on Trish's love seat nursing a strong alcohol, ignoring every word some young girl in a frilly, strapless dress said to him; twirling her bleached hair in what should have turned men on. Then again, anyone would harbor annoyance with that high-pitched voice she talked in. Setting that aside, bothered or not, Mary geared to give him a piece of her mind when she saw another man with the same colored hair.

She walked into the backyard after tearing her vision away from the blue enigma. They spotted each other at the same time; both sporting the same I'll-kill-you expression on their faces. Mary gained the upper hand because, after seeing his car outside, she knew he was there already. His stiffened posture told of his shock. The brunette hoped he would lose consciousness and keel over with embarrassment.

The ass in red stood on the other side of the yard, talking to some bimbo with an obvious breast job and long, fake fingernails. Typical. He would be into women with no class since he donned a classless presentation too.

Lucia broke her concentration. "Okay you, I see Trish over there. I'm going to say hi and see how she's doing."

"All right, I'll be here someplace. I'm about to grab something to drink and sit in the shade."

"Okay then, see ya." With a wave she trailed off, using a walk that stole the eyes of eager men and envious women staring after her. Mary thought that she should have gone over to Trish to say hello since she threw this soiree, but she inhabited the other side of the yard near that _thing_.

A small group of guys stood by an oak tree and she figured the drinks stationed there. Men didn't intimidate her. She spent many years learning and memorizing their habits. In the romantic sense she became a little clumsy in their presence but around everyday chit-chat she controlled herself.

When she asked if there was a hard lemonade in the cooler the four men looked over her figure, drinking in her svelte legs and staring at her bi-colored optics. Withal, it felt kind of nice to be viewed in such a manner. After the incident with her former lover it took a minute to regain her self-confidence, so the appreciative glances didn't go unnoticed. She thanked them with a smile when they handed her a cold bottle, finding a nice shady spot to sit down in a comfy, lounge chair.

The drink moistened her parched throat, settling down her midsection's complaining grumbles. A light breeze swirled in the shade, carrying the aromatic flavors of food sizzling on the grill. Man, if the music wasn't blaring and there less people prodded about this would be the perfect opportunity to take a nap.

If only D KILLAH didn't come in a beeline straight towards her.

Her insides grew hot with rage, bristling in anger because she didn't care to even share the same air to _breathe_ with this ass. She lowered her shades, preparing to send him back to whatever hole he crawled out of. She guessed he had to get rid of his guilt because the fault lied with him. Before he could open his mouth, she spoke first.

"I'm not in any mood to look at your damn face much less talk to you. It was a near-accident, tempers flared, and the shit is finished. So turn around and walk back over there and that will be that."

He laughed at her, the ass-wipe. "First of all, like the creature with brains that I am, I came to apologize and introduce myself, but I can see you're grumpy as shit."

As her irritation flowed, a small part of her admitted he had the looks. She agreed with Lucia. He had the looks. He wore a red, skater fitted tank top with a slight scoop neck; a black emblem of a demonic-looking monster impaled on a long sword. Black, vapor jeans fit snug against his legs, and matching combat boots laced his feet. He sported a silver necklace with a large crimson gem in the middle, shining great and bold as if it gleamed in the sun.

And like the other guy in the living room, who she assumed as his brother (more like his twin), he had the same shade of hair, eyes and skin. Though her agitator's skin tone shone a bit warmer.

She argued about lowering her guard; to give him a chance to apologize and all that jazz. Then she remembered him calling her a noun she wasn't and flipping her the bird.

"You're right. I'm in a grumpy mood. And as far as introductions, I give two shits as to who you are. You already called me bitch, so that's my name. Blow off and go back to talking to that manly beast and leave me alone."

"Okay, whatever _bitch_!" he spewed at her.

She primed to retort something sharp and shoot him in the head if she had a gun, but he walked away too fast. They managed to avoid each other as time passed on, Mary simmering in her annoyance while the man in red had swarms of women around him.

The time came to get in the long line of people rushing to fix a plate once the food was ready. Mary, like many of the other occupants, speed walked to make sure she got the food sizzling from the grill.

The layout of fresh fruit, grilled pineapples and corn, baked potatoes and beans, deviled eggs, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, regular salad, and various meats smothered in rich, spicy BBQ sauce drew everyone to its location. Mary managed not to drool while standing in the line, eager to ground her teeth into all that grub... until she felt something breathing down her neck.

The brunette twisted around with her white-haired aggressor-now-turned-stalker standing behind her. As famished as she felt, she didn't want to be anywhere near him. She admitted to her immature actions, however he pressed all her hot buttons and she wanted to lash out at him.

In front of her stood a model-esque dark-skinned man, making small chat for most of the picnic. She told him that she lost her appetite, despite her stomach grumbling otherwise, and that she would catch up with him later.

As Mary walked away she turned around and glared at the red-wearing freak, rolling her bi-colored irises with malice. The food presentation looked _so_ good, but not good enough to be close to him. Besides, after she finished in the powder room the line should be much shorter.

When she went through the living room, that jerk's supposed twin took one glance at her after he finished staring at Lucia, who assisted in the kitchen helping others bring extra supplies outside, and passively rolled his eyes. He looked like he didn't want to be here, made even worse by a similar-looking youth sitting across from him.

In his short-sleeved, purple, white and black flannel he eagerly told the rigid man about his nearly completed double revolver. He began to stretch his legs in navy blue, distressed jeans, rambling about firearms and their various purposes.

The man either grew bored with the chat or tired of hearing the eager teen talk.

"I'm glad we are not related, Nero. If we were, I'd abandon you." His voice poured out smooth, unhurried and deep, with a slight nasal undertone.

"Hey!" the teen cried out, obvious to take insult... to the interruption from his monologue. His indignant gesture allowed Mary to see his right arm in a sling and a red glove over his hand. Perhaps he mishandled a firearm and it got the better of him? She had experience with guns before, and obtained quite the collection herself at home. Dammit, she should have brought a gun and shot that bastard with it today.

The brunette reached the bathroom on the first floor. She didn't have to pee, she just wanted a moment to herself without so many people around. Looking in the mirror, the glow her complexion once held dimmed to a dull light.

Her ex had gotten to her more than she realized. It's difficult to bounce back from someone who betrayed you, and even harder to trust anyone thereafter.

Mary was _stressed_, every muscle in her frame seemed tense and if she didn't get rid of it with some sort of rigorous activity, she would explode.

She turned sideways and stared at her physique in the mirror. Perky breasts stood full in front of her, and a firm backside looked round and strong from behind. Toned arms, flat abdominals and lean legs resulted from the product of years of gymnastics and her current classes of kick-boxing. Her hair modeled after her mother's look but styled to fit her face. And that eye color...

Purple-manicured fingers lifted her glasses and peered into her eyes; the left one a reddish brown and the right in blue, inherited from her father.

People who didn't know any better, or cared less about their insensitivity, told her to seek treatment because it wasn't normal or it didn't look pretty. And those same people didn't look normal either... after her fists met their faces.

After her toes and fingernails looked good to her, she began to leave. She figured the line lessened to a minimum by then and the jerk should be stuffing his face.

She focused with dusting off some lint from her shirt when she bumped into her stalker after walking out the bathroom. He'd apparently waited to take a leak... regardless of the other two bathrooms in this place.

He snarled. "You're excused!"

She snarled back. "Next time bring your dog to see for you." She walked around him, not interested in sharing conversation.

"Naw, he doesn't need to be around any more bitches."

Mary heard the smile in his words, ingesting his cocky tone to boil her insides. She should have just paid him no regard but he irked the shit out of her. Placing one foot behind the other she turned to face him, regarding his expression and stance softening as he stared into her two-toned orbs.

"You don't know me, but if you had half of a brain you'd know that I am not in the mood to be messed with." She started to walk away, fingers twitching to connect to his jaw when he grabbed her arm and swung her around.

"Hey, why you have to be like that babe? Listen, I apologize okay?" He brought a hand over his heart in an act to show his sincerity. "I shouldn't have acted so macho towards you this morning or when you got here. I'm really not a bad guy." He offered a toothy grin, those same ice-blue hues piercing into her own. She didn't neglect to notice how his touch sent sparks through her, and those _not_ belonging to rage.

Mary pushed her glasses down with her free hand after his intense gaze got to her. She rolled her eyes. "Can I have my arm back?"

He let go, extending his hand to her. "My name is Dante."

She really could care less who about his title, and she should have just walked away to let him know that. But her mother raised a _lady_. She took his hand and shook it, but still didn't tell him hers.

"Okay... let's try that again. I'm Dante and you are?"

"... Mary," she said with reluctance, trying to calm down from the annoyance continuing to grate inside her. She didn't know if those three white-haired males sported the surreal 'Goth' look or not, but on them it looked natural. She wasn't going to start talking to him, though.

"Nice to meet you, Mary."

What purpose did he have in pursuing her? He seemed to enjoy blabbering to all the skanky tarts floating around here, so why is he bothering her? Why is he making such an effort to be in her presence? Nevertheless, he didn't have to come over here for the second time to attempt an apology. Maybe he did mean well and the car altercation lacked confrontations.

"The same." She tried to get rid of the tightness in her voice, but it stayed there. Her hand pulled away from his, not registering his firm grip keeping her in place. "Well, I'm hungry. Bye."

With that she walked away. She could feel those pale periwinkles following her every move, boring a hole into her until she turned into the kitchen, with Lucia lying in wait. The red-head grabbed more foil pans when she lifted an accusing eyebrow.

"I guess he's popular with you."

"Cool it, Lucia. He just apologized. That's it." She headed towards the food table, now with a much shorter line, leaving Lucia and her light giggles behind.

Mary found her good mood returning after stuffing her face with nearly everything available to eat. She resumed sitting in her shady spot, this time with Trish coming to join her. As the hostess of the party men stared at her meaty breasts and tall, curvy figure, wearing a black, strapless short ruched dress with lighting strikes on the side. And the women gawked at her with her blonde high bun, matching jewelry accessories and black booted heels with gold trimmings. The observation from admirers and secret detractors stayed on her throughout the day, making her the center of attention even when she didn't want to be.

After sharing a few jokes and shopping boutique locations Mary noticed Dante pointing at her. He stood in the middle of a group of girls making hand gestures, as if turning a steering wheel.

She couldn't believe it.

This bastard damn near broke his neck to apologize to her, then he turned around and started talking crap about her to other people?

She felt the beginnings of a headache start to form, coupled with the stench of cigarette smoke surrounding her; she floated back to her sour mood.

"Hey Trish, do you mind if I crash for a bit in your basement? I think it's the sun."

She laughed. "Oh, I thought you wanted to lay down because you were full, but I know you're not."

"Oh please, I can eat three times as much, but what I had hit the spot."

"Okay then, make yourself comfortable. Do you need some aspirin?" Trish was a sweetheart... as of now.

When they first met a bit of a... misunderstanding erupted over the last designer blouse on a rack at a dress shop. Multiple run-ins later at clothing stores had them snubbing each other, and more shopping expeditions conspired to bring them together on friendlier terms. Since then, like two civilized women, they sorted out their differences and shared the shirt.

"No thanks, I'll be fine." Mary got up and started walking towards the house. With her ardent glance hiding behind her shades she strutted by his clown-faced harem, keeping her head held high as she looked down on him... despite her shorter stature in comparison to his.

Back in the living room she saw a young woman modestly sitting in Nero's lap, wearing a yellow braided, backless shirt with auburn hair in a long bob touching her shoulders. His left hand drew light circles on her exposed thigh, the white shorts she wore riding up her thighs to unlady-like displays. In spite of pressing her legs closed, Dante's 'twin' gave his seal of disapproval of her attire through down-turned lips.

Those frowning lips called to memory of passionate nips her ex once riddled her body with, leaving her in a desperate, quivering mess to feed her senses. More than once did she wish those labiums to scour every inch of her curves again but those days are long gone; lost in a sea of memories she tried to forget.

Or maybe he used those techniques on the woman Mary found him in bed with.

She made her way to Trish's basement, recently renovated to look like a small apartment. A beige couch set, a tiny but functioning kitchen, a TV, a pool table and a bathroom provided a cozy atmosphere in case someone wanted to sleep over.

A damp, cool feel kissed her skin as she went over to the CD collection, with rock music taking the selected majority. Picking out an album by Kings of Leon, she put the CD in the player, set it to random and turned up the volume.

Taking off her shades Mary sat down on the comfy couch and allowed her intellectual organ to rest, or tried to. Her body roved in a state of jittery shakes and she didn't know why. Well that and the sight of heavy flirting and pelvic throttling the guests indulged in.

The physical exchanges between the people sparked flints of jealousy. When she saw lips touch she wished to have her own against a man. She wanted to feel strong arms squeezing her petite frame when she saw hugs being given. Her legs ached to wrap around a thick waist as women straddled their boyfriends to use as seats. The memories spawned by these spontaneous gestures ignited a flame within her groin; only quelled by sensuous touches to herself but that only lasted until her next fix.

It goes without saying that her lustful urges spiked.

Whatever her ex did to her physique sexually and physically left her with an appetite she hasn't been able to fill since she quit the relationship. Touching herself, fun toys and adult videos didn't plug the void lingering present within her. Despite all that, she vowed to never have sex again until she found 'the one.' Heartbreak is too devastating of a burden to go through again.

Anxiousness started to reel its ugly head when 'Use Somebody' oozed through the speakers, forcing her to take an interest in the pool table to think about something else. She loved playing pool in her spare time. It maintained one of those things she used to humor herself with when she had nothing better to do.

In her opinion, playing billiards alone had just as much fun as playing with a partner... but she needed to practice more often. She found difficulty in making the striped balls go into the pockets, but she didn't worry.

Five minutes later she heard the basement door open and close, followed by footsteps coming down the stairs. Mary figured Trish had decided to come check on her. "Trish, I'm knocking a few balls around. Hope you don't mind."

"Knocking balls, huh? Sounds kinky."

Son of a bitch. Why is this moron here?

Those jittery shakes morphed into nervous irritance. She didn't know if he irked her on purpose or if he stayed stuck on stupid but she had enough of him bothering her.

"What _is_ your problem? Now you're following me around!"

He laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. I came to see if you're okay and to find out if I'm the reason you came inside."

Is this fool serious? This arrogant bastard believed that she felt unwell because of him? Oh please, she wouldn't give him that satisfaction even if he dreamed of it.

"Get over yourself. Now who's flattering themselves?" Mary gave him a snide remark. "You have some serious issues."

"I want to join." He stood against the pool table, checking out her ass as she bent over to set up her next shot.

"No you _can't_. What you _can_ do is leave."

"Don't mean to burst your bubble but this isn't your house, lady."

She lined up the position, trying to ignore him but her grip shook.

"Secondly, you can't tell me if I can or can't play." He moved nearby, saddling up right next to her. He smelled light traces of a musky, fruity perfume the nearer he ventured, wanting to have a closer seat to the inviting scent.

"And most of all, I didn't ask for your permission to play."

Mary hit the red-striped ball with force, watching it roll to the corner of the table and hovered over the pocket, never sinking into the hole.

"Oh, you're tense. That's not going to get you anywhere. You gotta have the ball directly in line with your sight without any tension-"

"Go to hell!" She semi-threw the pool stick at him, pissed off to no end that he deliberately came down here to aggravate her.

Dante blinked at her sudden outburst, mouth agape over her holding onto her pessimistic mood. He didn't know what her problem remained to be but she better take her bitchy nerves and shove it somewhere long and deep.

And if she wanted help with that, he had something _long_ that he could shove _deep_ inside her.

"Hey, I'm just trying to lighten the mood here," he said, leaning on the cue as he watched her semi-stomp into the bathroom, checking to see that she still looked presentable in the mirror. "I think you look decent. You'd look perfect if you lost your attitude."

He took the stick and began to play himself, managing to pocket three solid-colored balls with the cue ball when he heard her walking up to him. Dante figured she would admit to her faults or even throw a snippy comment his way.

As he started to stand to his full height a hand shot across his face, whipping his head to the right. He cradled his cheek, a smirk gracing his lips while her feisty nature instigated to stir his loins. Women threw themselves at him daily, eager to have his handsome looks ravish their willing bodies, but this defiant woman elicited a craving he needed to bask in. This fire she had drew him to her, like a moth enraptured by the glowing light.

She would have to possess a blazing inferno to knock him out cold, nevertheless. He couldn't be downed by just a few sparks.

"Does that make you feel good? Resorting to violence instead of talking like a normal per-"

She slapped him.

"Or maybe you're not the talkative type," he said undeterred as he stepped closer. His vision darkened with enjoyment,sensing an electric charge surge in his mold at the press of soft fingertips, propelled by a powerful hand. "Perhaps you speak through your actions better, 'cause right now I think you need to get something off your chest-"

This time she punched him, trying to retain her self-control before she completely lost it. Though with every hit she landed she felt this warming elation pouring through her, coaxing her to continue her assault. In reality, she let go of some of her frustration ever since the break-up.

Mary felt chills run down her spine at her behavior, her conscious coming forth to berate her in view of her un-ladylike conduct. He held no fault for her anger but he didn't help matters any by taunting her. Besides, his profile told her how he enjoyed the rough treatment, eyes glistening with dark humor like a drunken man who yearned excitement.

She needed to wipe that smirk off his face.

By the time her bicep grew tired from assaulting him her back hit the wall with Dante invading her personal space, his left cheek painted a blushing rose on his nearly-albino skin. She breathed in short spurts, trying to clutch to her irritation but it needed a breather, tiredness taking the reigns on her self-control to lash out at this man.

This handsome, annoying-as-hell, man.

"I hate you." She looked at him with fire in her sight, mouth set in a scowl that spoke volumes of the damage she would cause when her strength returned.

"Aw, don't be like that babe," he placed an arm above her head, unfazed by her hard glare and leaned down to her face. "You can't be mad at a guy like me if he wants to make a sad girl smile." He tried his luck by leaning in and caressing her lips but she grunted in denial, sharply turning her head to the side.

"Why do you care so much if I'm happy or not? Matter of fact, why do you even care?"

"Because somebody with eyes like yours shouldn't have sadness in them."

"Well too bad, it doesn't concern you how I'm feeling so-"

"And I can tell that sadness wasn't placed there by me. With how fiery you are I wouldn't think you'd let that bastard put you in this position, wherever he is."

Her countenance visibly faltered; the wrath behind them desperate to surge forward through her emotions but they remained stilted. Palms grew sweaty under his keen gaze, chewing on the inside of her cheek as his words struck a deep nerve.

How could he have known? Did someone tell him about her past relationship? No, Lucia and Trish wouldn't betray her like that. They were the only ones who knew about her current dating status. So... what is his angle? He seemed genuine in... well she didn't know what his play strived to be but her beliefs rang true. If he wanted a quickie he should find somebody else. She refused to have sex until her lover wanted a future with her.

No matter how damp her underwear became from his hovering proximity.

With her eyesight closing in concentration she shook off any hazy feeling his body temperature lulled her with, thinking it time to leave and go... somewhere. He probably used his charms to hook-up and leave her as an additional mark on his headboard.

"I'm going out," she muttered, her mismatched optics twitching as she almost fell for something she was sure, wait... no, what she _didn't_ want to happen should he try anything. "Leave me alone."

She maneuvered around him, heading up the staircase to go back into the bustle and loud atmosphere when she forgot her shades on the couch, nigh on stomping in a childish gesture when she hopped down the steps. Mary refused to look at him, his hands shoved inside his pockets as he looked down at his boots, swaying a little on his heels.

The brunette grabbed them in haste, crimson flushing her cheeks as provocative images flooded her psyche, most involving him on top of her. She shook her head to rid of the ideas, nearly speed-walking to the stairs when _it _happened.

Dante kissed her.

He quickly leaned in her path, diving to her lips with a tilted head to connect to her. She took two steps back, eyeballs widened as her muscles went rigid. A delicious tremor snaked down her spine, an ignited flame originating from her toes to nestle between her legs.

Mary wanted to scream, swear and pound her fists but she could do neither, frozen in surprise as she processed his movements. Dante stood tall and strong, his face void of expression as his gaze penetrated into hers with hard intent.

She inhaled a shallow breath, placing her shades on with trembling hands and attempted a second try to walk past him without slapping him senseless. And again he smooched her, this time he grabbed her by her forearm and pressed his peckers to hers with strength, holding her as she began to slap him in retaliation.

She didn't want to be another name in his little black book, something to parade around as a trophy to his friends. That's what assholes did at functions like this. On the flip side her senses sharpened as electricity skimmed through her shape. His scent reached her nostrils, strawberries and worn leather pulling her back into the hazy feeling she currently fought against.

How could she get out of this dilemma if he prevented her from leaving, if her limbs refused the will of her brain? A throaty scream called her to get out of this situation but her vocals voided the action from commencing. She tried with sheer strength to fight the urge to give in but his aura coupled with her anxious body spelled out her doom.

At the last moment she pulled away from him, hitting the same wall as he closed in on her, eyes laced with hunger as a predator that finally captured its prey after a long chase. He lowered his face to hers, labiums resting on her cheek instead as she turned her head to the side again.

Warm air ghosted over her shoulder, having the lightest hint of firm lips rubbing against her collarbone. She denied her skin the full contact it craved, crossing her arms as she pressed flat to the wall, avoiding his touch as much as possible.

He enclosed her by placing both forearms on either side of her head, sniffing and breathing every inch of her, letting his nose familiarize her perfume. Though the logical part of her cerebrum shut down she attuned to his every action; to the way her form melted at his light touches. The muscles around her throat tensed, refraining from any movement as his focus fixated on hers after he took off her shades.

Dante smiled, looking into her bi-colored peepers with lust and mirth as he moved closer to her discreetly, feeling her body tense with the contact. Her orbs tried to rekindle the aggression it once held but it lacked the conviction due to his smug ways and her loins blazing on fire.

"I hate your guts."

"Yeah? The feeling's mutual."

Her lips pressed together, mind trying to function between kneeing him in the groin and making his knee rub against her groin when he moved her hands. The lapse in mental reasoning allowed him to latch onto the side of her throat, causing her to flinch under his touch, taking a deep breath as a shiver trailed down her back. Her palms pushed against his chest as his snaked around her hips, kneading and rubbing with pressure as he suckled away.

Her oppositional force proved ineffective, fingers trembling while he added teeth to his necking, cradling her pulse and flicking his tongue along her taut skin. Waves of delight traveled its way to her center, inducing the bundle of nerves to jump each time he stroked harder; roaming over the same spot with increased vigor.

With her shades still in his hand he picked her up under her thighs, moving over to the edge of the pool table without breaking contact. A harsh nip made her gasp, Dante pulling away to stare straight into her eyes, letting go of her sunglasses after he placed his palms on either side of her hips.

Mary prided herself with having standards. In high school girls glorified their trysts as a liberating faction of some sort, reveling in how popular of a status they could achieve to have boys lust after them. She turned her nose up at heir behavior, taking value in herself by placing her homework and hobbies first.

In this time however her pride waged war with her practices, telling her to let go of her hard-driven ways and enjoy this moment. Logic intervened when irrational proclivities emerged, but when he scooted her flush against his torso, it shut down.

Her closed lids protected her from reality, the lapse in judgment made this... imp of an enigma continue his ministrations.

Both knew that she surrendered herself to him; her body willingly but her mind had trouble piecing together simple intuition.

"I need to see you smile more babe," he nearly moaned, trailing his lips back and forth to the sensitive spot on her throat. He pulled on the thin flesh with his teeth, licking over the indentation with gentle caresses. Broken moans echoed in vain to stay hidden but they escaped, using her fingers to dig inside his shoulders and arms to release the pressure building... and to silence his cocky attitude.

He must have caught on to her game, laughing at her attempt. "Scratch and pull me all you want, but you'll be smiling for me in the end."

"Wha... fat chance you idi-"

He cupped her chin in his hands and kissed her, swallowing her becoming insult instead to enrapture her lips. Their scents swirled in each other's noses, Mary loosening her tight eyelids and Dante taking to gnawing on her bottom lip, lightly squeezing her thighs to sync in with the kiss. The taste of tangy BBQ sauce and traces of lemon danced along his mouth, the red one consuming the flavors that mingled with her own musky perfume and he wanted _more_.

Her reluctance stopped her from letting go of herself. He could tell she remained troubled by her contemplation, nervousness twitching through her figure to prevent her from enjoying herself fully. He had to get rid of it. Fast.

Without warning he pulled her off the table, "I Want You" flowing through the speakers as he turned her around, trapping her against him and the hard ledge of the billiards table. He directed the upper half of her torso to twist, resuming to lock lips from behind.

Dante thrusted his tongue inside her orifice, watching her eyelids fly open and hearing her mouth utter a startled gasp. Moving his hands down her shirt he firmly grasped each bosom, kneading the perky mounds as her silent exhales increased in volume. One hand moved to her chin while the other snaked into her shorts, eliciting the reaction his ears loved to hear.

He worked his mouth over hers, using his other hand to rub the hypersensitive nub between her stilts. Mary's legs felt like jelly, closing them as the heightened sensation muddled her mind, eyeballs rolling in the back of her skull, Dante swallowing her grunts in lustful glee.

And just as she felt her peak boiling over he withdrew his hands, wrapping them around her waist as she collapsed onto the pool table, mind reflexively moving the billiards from under her.

Jackass. He did that on purpose.

Her breathing returned with her frustration growing, the denial of a full release instructing her to punch him until he bled. Being down here in the midst of making out with this tool scored her insensible points, made worse with his teasing gestures. Perhaps this conveyed a sign she shouldn't be doing this. She held her reservations since he made the first move, and this pause could give her a moment to come to her senses.

If only he wasn't already moving on to the lower half of her backside.

With difficulty she reclaimed her talking voice again, trying to look over shoulder at his descending form.

"Wait... stop. I can't... Don't-"

"Can't talk. Horny." Dante muttered, in the midst of lifting her shirt to have better access to her skin. He detected light traces of a peachy scent as he nibbled her back, probably from the body wash she soaped her self with.

"What are you―hey!"

Mary crossed her legs in alarm, arms reaching behind her as Dante managed to grab the insides of her clothes, bringing them down to her lower thighs. The cool, damp air reached her exposed flesh, Mary rising from her downed position but a strong forearm slung over her lower back prevented her from moving.

She wasn't necessarily... _eager_ to get down, given the situation and their location but this proved too much to endure. A part of her darkly wished he catered to her until she couldn't think, to momentarily purge the drama her ex brought about. And the other part raged in defiance, offended that he wanted to feel her in such an intimate manner.

Footsteps above her echoed, probably from someone headed towards the bathroom. The prospect of getting caught dropped her heart to her stomach, seeing how the pool table aligned with the stairs; if anyone opened the basement they could see them. A second set of footsteps joined the first, roving in the hallway edging closer to the door.

"Asshole!" she whispered with a squeal, balling her fists to keep her returning excitement and lingering exposure from above at bay.

"... You're the boss, lady."

He dropped to his knees.

"Wait...-oh!"

Dante gloated in the way he made her body sing, the scratches and bites she left on him swelled him with pride, eager to make her beg; to make their connection last twice as long. Her legs quivered and shook with his deliberate, tentative touches, quelling any nervousness her body bowed under.

He reveled in the way she felt on him, the way her frame fit so snug around him. Her long mewls and throaty moans sparked his urges to devour her until she couldn't speak, mind a fuzzy mess to even focus on the simplest matters.

However, as with most things off to a good start, it quickly came to an end thanks to an ill-timed interruption.

"Dante! Are you down there, you idiot!"

The anxious, fuzzy feeling they created snapped like a taut string, shattering the hazy atmosphere he aimed to bask in some more. The instant she heard the voice she pushed him away, seeing how messy her appearance came, cheeks growing red with embarrassment. Dante's arousal immediately turned into disappointment, knowing this moment vanished, forever ruined thanks to that _runt_.

Unlike most people he would have found humor at being caught naked, preferably giving them an open view of him pleasuring her but not in this moment. The look on his face showed thorough irritance as his mouth formed into a deep sneer.

"Are you down there, stupid, answer me!"

Mary trembled with hard shakes, feeling like a sweaty mess upon fixing herself up, her worst fear of discovery taking precedence over all else. She grabbed her shorts when he took off to the sound of feet coming down the stairs, sprinting with an almost inhuman speed to the person interrupting their session.

Dante seemed heavily displeased, rage etched into his expression with murderous intent. The boy with the arm brace let out a small yell as he indeed came down the first few steps, retreating in haste after he saw the 'death on legs' come after him.

He closed the basement door after him, leaving Mary with a much needed breather. Still flustered with adrenaline beating through her veins she quickly ran to the bathroom. After she threw on her bottoms correctly she looked at herself in the mirror.

Rosy cheeks, plump lips and flushed skin met her eyes, anyone who walked past her could see her 'just-got-lucky' look. Becoming splotches appeared on her skin with dark blue and green bruises over the expanse of her neck. She smoothed her palms over her frazzled mane, trying to finger it back into shape and its original style.

She heard the door open, hoping to hell it wasn't Dante when a feminine voice called to her. "You okay down there, Mary?"

Opening the bathroom door she responded, "I'm fine Trish, thanks. I'll be up in a minute!"

"All right. Take your time, hun." The door closed shortly after.

The brunette wiped the sweat off of her with the paper towel in the bathroom, fixing her clothes as best she could. As the adrenaline declined another sensation ebbed to the surface; the numbing thrum between her legs. Images ripe with their connection bombarded her mind, making her body temperature rise at the recent memories, making her ache again just thinking on it.

A sly grin threatened to plant itself on her face, Mary preventing the sides of her mouth from tugging upwards. Her thighs crossed over each other, recalling the way he sampled her, roving her mind in a murky haze surely to prevent logic from resurfacing.

She needed to leave, now.

When she stepped out the bathroom she smelled their exotic pheromones swirling in the atmosphere, prompting her to spray the air freshener around the basement before exiting. No one seemed to be in the house so she made a clean break for her escape. When she walked to the living room, nobody loitered except Dante's brother (did he sit there this whole time?) and Lucia chatting with Trish.

"Leaving so soon?" Trish said with a smile in her voice. The dark-haired woman would be naïve to think that the blonde didn't know what had happened. Shit.

"Is there any food left?" Mary tried to act nonchalant, lightly balling her fists to keep them from shaking as her physique twitched with each breath she took.

"Barely. People sure came here with empty stomachs."

"Yup, then it's time we headed out."

"Well, you two be careful out there, now. I'm going to go find Dante, he looked like he wanted to kill Nero." She quickly gave the two women hugs, trotting off outside to entertain the other guests.

The stoic twin looked in her direction and immediately Mary sensed he knew she did something naughty. His face remained devoid of expression but she could see the control he had to not give his showcase of disapproval.

Without looking his way again she grabbed Lucia by the arm and told her it was time to leave. The red-head didn't put up a fight, quickly grabbing the foiled-covered plates of food off the counter and headed after her, giving a final glance at the man who stared at her every moment she walked into the house.

About half way to the car she came under attack by Lucia's inquiries, side-stepping the questions to her whereabouts and asking why that weirdo in blue fixed his sight on Lucia for the whole day.

She succeed in covering up her uneven gait, teeth lightly gnashing to keep her legs from trembling en route to her car. Managing to refuse comments all the while she cranked up the stereo as she adjusted to her seat, feeling a smile desperate to cling to her face.

* * *

**A/N**: Wanna know a dark secret? This _isn't_ the full, uncut version. If you want to read the **Adult **version go to my profile and click on the BBQ link. Yup, this version is the "sweet" version in comparison to what I wrote.

Some of you may have wanted me to post this in the M section, but I don't want any fiction 'police' taking down my story so you got the **watered-down** version. Seriously, if people talk about a nipple on here, even **in** the M rated section, it seems their story is deleted. More of the blood/gore/horror/angst stuff is allowed on here than anything concerning sex so...

I should have made Lucia the "winner" in this story but oh well, I'll do more with her in the future.

Now, back to updating everything else that should be finished by now. -_-

P.S. My darling Tora-Katana, remember when I said I was going to do a Dante/Lady story...this is not the one!


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